After Hours

The Second Wave

A letter from Opie

It has been quite some time, since I have last put my ink on a leaf of papyrus. After all, it is useless as it will never reach your eyes. However, I feel that it would bring me comfort, a feeling far removed from my soul, since your departure.

I have recently made amends with your brother, I tended to his garden and he gave me hospitality in his castle He was kind enough to introduce me to a band of vagabo…adventurers, knowing that some time away would help remedy these deep wounds. I must say, I have lost my touch for adventure, as a pack of wolves proved to me that my trusty Scimitar was not the only thing that was rusty. It has been rough fitting in with the group, as I have been a late addition and my personality is not the most welcoming one…though I promise with all my heart that I am putting my best effort forward.
These past few nights have been filled with excitement, we ran into a group of goblins at the Castle of Lord Porkroast. The initial battle was rough, but a success none of the less. We searched the castle for the Duke’s whereabouts and came up empty-handed…well, for the most part, as we did find two beings. The first: an interesting gnome, named Locke, who is strangely quite passionate about romantic novels. Not judging, just making an observation. The second: a powerful fire elemental, Neraxious…he seemed to recognize one of the elves in our group. Sketchy, but with no concrete information, we shall rest this matter for now.
As we set to leave the castle we encountered more goblins, and a fat, ugly Hobgoblin…who interestingly, struck a remarkable resemblance to you mother, but I digress. After 5 nights of battles, we were veterans, this was a massacre of goblins and they stood no chance. With every swing of our weapon, discharge of a spell, a goblin was struck dead. Our coordination and cooperation was beautiful and smooth like a well-crafted multi-bagpipe ballad.
You know I am not particularly keen to killing a being, but after witnessing what these vile creatures can do, I felt nor sorrow or sympathy in seeing them to their demise. The rust that corrupted the blade of my scimitar has now been washed off with the blood of goblins.

Today, was the first time I have felt alive, since…well, I do not wish to write it again.